Thetean High Command

Maturing is realizing half the japanese sounding names you read on Wattpad were genuine gibberish made up by either a white person or a filipino and theres no in-between ✌️

Woke up an hour after my trig regents started 

So this is the dreaded finals season ive heard of for 4 years

Finals this week + regents next week

I wish I could delete all my comments ever

I love how easily you can tell someone started by writing azur lane fanfiction

For 3 days I watched you, practicing on the dirt of Churchill Downs, and again I was enamored. I tried to copy you, Luxor Cafe. For I believed you would take victory by the afternoon of May 3rd. I didn’t care if you had the same odds as me, if you were the 10th expected to win, I followed you because I believed. 
          
          Breaking 5th, I felt on top of the world, I didn’t even mind when East Avenue took me around the outside, I just knew that I was keeping up in the world’s most exciting 2 minutes of sports. 
          
          Entering turn 3, it started with Burnham Square. She spooked me, and I lost my footing. Then another racer, then another, then it was you. There was a wall, 5 wide, and it didn’t even matter, because even as I ran as hard as I could, I still couldn’t keep up with the pack in front of me. So I gave up. 
          
          In that moment, I realized something. Even in your defeat, I still couldn’t finish any better than you.

I hate you, Luxor Cafe. From the moment I lost my debut race to you, I knew you'd be my rival. Sure, it was my third, but I almost won. Instead, I had to enter a classic year debut race because of you. My second race with you, I had to watch you sprint to the lead while I got blocked in with 4 other umas. I knew I could win, so I separated myself. From tracen, from everyone I knew, and most importantly I separated myself from you. I watched your Fukuyu Stakes win, a dozen times, hundreds of times. I watched you, Luxor Cafe. In April I finally won another race, a G2. The UAE Derby. When I heard you were going to Kentucky, I followed, high off my first win. 
          
          That was a mistake.

you know same face syndrome
          
          whats the writers equivalent

He wakes up. Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. God. What the hell was that. 
          
          It was an odd dream. He was in a stable, like a stable for pigs. The room was so small. There was a trough of water to the side, and his stomach felt bad. 
          
          God was he hungry. 
          
          In his dream he'd slid under some netting, escaping the pen, he'd wandered for a bit but he was swiftly caught by... Humans. They called him another name, still Point. But not Point Taken. 
          
          Point Given. 
          
          He tried getting away but his body couldn't resist. They led him back into the room, speaking of the Belmont. The Belmont Stakes. 
          
          It wasn't the normal rooms he'd known, they were stables. Fucking stables for Eclipse's sake. 
          
          At least the dream was over.
          
          But he was still hungry.